Avengers - PROMPTS!
by C0unting.St4rs
Summary: So, as the title (sorta) says, I'm taking prompts for Avenger stories. You want a story? Give me a prompt and I'll hopefully put it into writing! Please read the WHOLE A/N in the first post, there's a short fic there too. Rated T cuz I'm not sure what I'll have to write.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so I understand that my Percy Jackson and the Commander of Chaos story needs a little love, but I'm completely and utterly stuck at the moment. As for my other one, the Games of Chaos. It's on Wattpad, on my friends accound. If you want to continue reading ****_that_****, search up Book_Land or, Games of Chaos.**

**Anyway, back to whatever I'm trying to say here. I'm currently in a HUGE Avengers (AND IRON MAN :D) phase and so, I figured, what the heck? **

**I'm asking for PROMPTS people! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE. You submit your prompts, I choose the ones I can work with. So, yeah. I'll probably end up choosing yours at some stage unless I get too many to keep up with (which I highly doubt). **

**But I'm just gonna shut up now... after I tell you that I DON'T OWN ANY OF THE AVENGERS OR THIS SCENE!**

**And yeah. This is a scene from Iron Man 2, with 'Natalie Rushman' (or Black Widow... or Natasha Romanoff), only it gives a bit more insight into 'Natalie's ideas on the whole ordeal. This is just a story I'm putting up so I'm not breaking any rules by doing the whole 'A/N' chapter thing. **

**One last thing. The only things I ship in the group are; Pepperony, Clintasha and... you know, the actual pairings. I'm sorry, but Steve and Tony (or Stony, whatever the heck it is that people call it) makes me want to barf up last week's breakfast. And I don't even remember what I had for breakfast last week, so y'know, I kinda don't want to find out. Not to mention Loki and Tony (whatever the name for ****_that _****pairing is called). I'm sorry but that just gives me nightmares (not really, I'm exaggerating).**

**So... READ ON PEOPLE**

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**PROMPT #1 – The ****_real _****Tony Stark**

Natasha Romanoff (or in this case, Natalie Rushman) was a lot of things; a super assassin, the Black Widow, even an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. But she certainly was _not _an assistant to Anthony Edward Stark.

In fact, she hated him. At least, she thought she did. Then he opened up to her on the night of his birthday asking her what she would do if it was her last birthday (which she knew, as much as he assured her it was hypothetical, was quite a relevant question), and suddenly, she found herself feeling sorry for him.

She'd walked into his bedroom, the preparations for his birthday already in full swing, to find him with his shirt unbuttoned. He was standing in front of a mirror, peering at his arc reactor and she just managed to catch a glimpse of a crossword of what looked like bulging purple veins spiraling out from his chest. No, she wasn't _looking _(so get your brains out of the gutter) but she was trained as an assassin, and assassins were supposed to be alert.

His face was creased with the worry that he worked so hard to keep hidden from the public. In fact, here in the seclusion of his own room, he no longer kept up his walls and 'badass' act and allowed his feelings to overtake his cool demeanor.

Natasha – ahem – Natalie Rushman walked through the door and peered at the billionaire. "Do you know which watch you'd like to wear tonight, Mr Stark?" she asked coolly. She sauntered over to his chest of drawers and placed the brown box in her hands down.

"Uh," he glanced at her quickly before resuming in the buttoning up of his maroon shirt (something that took Natalie by surprise. Stark was known for _unbuttoning _his shirt in the close proximity of a woman). "I'll give them a look."

Natalie blew a strand of cherry-red hair out of her pale face and picked up a bottle of champagne, giving it a shake. She felt uncomfortable in the short, tight, pale brown dress that she currently wore and though she would never admit it, her feet were practically _dying _in the tall heels on her feet. She was silent as she poured the champagne into an elegant, and expensive looking, glass.

"I should probably cancel the party, huh," Tony said, turning back to Natalie. His shirt was completely buttoned now, but Natalie could see the faint blue glow of the arc reactor shining through the material. She wondered how he was able to live with something so _alien_ residing in his body.

"Probably," Natalie turned to him, cradling the glass in both hands.

"Yeah," he said, walking toward her. "Because its, um-"

But Natalie cut him off, and took a step toward him. "Ill timed?" she supplied.

"Right," he said, swallowing slightly. "Sends the wrong message..."

"Inappropriate," she was standing right in front of him now and both of them stopped walking.

He gave her a calculating stare as she handed him the glass of champagne and took a sip, not once taking his eyes off of her face.

"Is that dirty enough for you?" She asked as he lowered the glass from his lips.

"Uh," he looked slightly awkward in front of her steely gaze. "Gold face, brown band – I'll give that a look." He avoided her question, instead talking about his watches, and began turning away, not before telling her to bring the watches over to him. He set his glass down on a small table next to a dark leather couch as she walked back over to the box she had carried in earlier.

He sat down on the couch as she brought the box over to him and he took t from her. "I'll take that," he said. "Why don't you, uh..." he trailed off as she took a seat on the armrest.

They stared at each other for a moment and Natalie couldn't help but notice the vacant and slightly nervous expression on his face. Perhaps he was scared of her because of the way she had single handedly taken down Happy, or perhaps there was just something else lingering on his mind. Before she left the room tonight, she determined to find out what it was.

She leant forward and dabbed some foundation on his face, only to hide the bruising and red slash on his left cheekbone. "I've gotta say, it's hard to get a read on you," he stated as she applied it to his face.

She smiled inwardly. Well, that was all part of her training, was it not? If he couldn't read her emotions properly, then clearly she was doing her job properly. To be completely honest, she prided herself on being able to read other people, all the while being able to keep herself bottled up and hidden.

"Where are you from?" he added and she smiled, openly this time.

She told him, though of course it wasn't the truth. Nothing was the truth when you worked undercover. You were someone else, and Natasha worried that she spent more time as Natalie than she did as herself.

"Can I ask you a question, hypothetically?" He looked up at her and she took her hand away from his face. He didn't wait for her to answer, however, and Natalie hadn't planned on it. She knew he was going to ask her no matter what she said, so she settled for keeping silent and waiting for him to ask her. "Bit odd - If this was your last-" He brought his hand up and rubbed at his forehead, wincing slightly. "-Birthday party you were ever gonna have, how would you celebrate it?" He took his hand away from his face and looked at her again.

So, there it was. This was clearly the reason behind his anxiety. He thought he was going to die from the Palladium poisoning. Natalie thought Fury might know where he could find a replacement, but she wasn't one hundred percent positive.

She gave him a calculating look and decided to just answer his 'hypothetical' question without an interrogation. "I'd do whatever I wanted to do... with whoever I wanted to do it with." She smiled slightly at him. For once this wasn't annoying, attention seeking, Tony Stark, this was the real him. The man that really did care about his own health and the safety of the people he loved.

Though, that man _clearly _went AWAL later when he got drunk and went completely _nuts _in his suit. But for once, Natalie (or Natasha) decided to forget it. She decided that the man should really be able to let loose sometimes and decided just to smile and go with it... aside from when he went nuts and you know -destroy half his house.

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**A/N: ** **Just recapping my earlier AN for the people out there who were too lazy to read the AN at the beginning. Chill, this one's shorter. **

**I'm asking for PROMPTS people! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE. You submit your prompts, I choose the ones I can work with. So, yeah. I'll probably end up choosing yours at some stage unless I get too many to keep up with (which I highly doubt). **

**One last thing. The only things I ship in the group are; Pepperony, Clintasha and... you know, the actual pairings. I'm sorry, but Steve and Tony (or Stony, whatever the heck it is that people call it) makes me want to barf up last week's breakfast. And I don't even remember what I had for breakfast last week, so y'know, I kinda don't want to find out. Not to mention Loki and Tony (whatever the name for ****_that _****pairing is called). I'm sorry but that just gives me nightmares (not really, I'm exaggerating).**

**PROMPTS PEOPLE!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: It's not my best but hey, I thought I should probably give you something. Also, don't get used to the post-a-day thing. I'll post when I have inspiration and no sooner. **

**Anyway, I didn't get the chance to check out that video RollingUpHigh so I'm sorry if it's not exactly what you were thinking of when you gave me that prompt. **

**Also, don't forget a prompt can also be one word or a short phrase. **

**I DONT OWN AVENGERS!**

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**PROMPT #2 - Everyone has hidden talents. But no one (but Natasha) knew Clint's biggie. Seeing a video of their friend hollering American pie at the top of his lungs walking on Death Row...who knew he had such a good voice? – Thanks to ****_RollingUpHigh_**

"Can I kill him _now_?" Tony pleaded. He was banging his head repeatedly on his kitchen bench, trying to rid himself of the horrible screeching that reached his ears.

"Since when have you ever followed orders?" Natasha muttered, though she too was thoroughly irritated. Clint was strutting around the kitchen, making his breakfast and singing (or dying...) at the top of his lungs.

"Oh, I don't follow orders," Tony assured her, the constant thud of his head hitting the marble bench top irritating Natasha almost more than Clint's singing voice. "I just don't want the Black Widow after me when I kill her boyfriend."

Natasha grit her teeth and brought her fist down on the table. "Tony, he's not my boyfriend," she said, as calmly as possible. "And Clint, SING NORMALLY!"

Clint stopped singing immediately and shot her a mischievous grin. "I am." He said innocently. Tony groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, thankful that Clint had ceased his torture.

Natasha shot him a steely glare and he stuck his tongue out at her. _Oh yeah, real mature, Clint. _She thought, filled with a sudden desire to go over there and wring his neck.

"What _was _that?" Thor demanded. He walked into the room with his hands over his ears. "I'm sure it sounded like Loki in the shower." His red cape was hanging loosely around his neck and his long, blonde hair was hanging in a frizzy mess around his face. Clearly he hadn't yet brushed it.

Tony stopped banging his head on the bench and stared at the demigod with his eyes wide and mouth hanging open. A small smile was tugging at his lips. Why hadn't Thor told him that before he started threatening Loki? It would have been _brilliant _blackmail. Natasha raised her eyebrows and spun around on her heels, looking amusedly at Thor. Clint just looked remarkably offended.

"I take offence to that," Clint said hotly, though there was a look in his eye that made Natasha think he was just proud of himself.

See, Natasha knew that Clint could sing better than that. She'd heard him in the shower once because she'd snuck into his room to steal a gun and Tony had built them all on suites. Anyway, to be quite honest, Clint was actually a brilliant singer, he just liked to annoy everyone by sounding like-

"Whose cat was dying?" Steve demanded, sprinting into the room. Tony just sighed and gestured to Clint who was now whistling to himself with his hands in his pockets. If that wasn't a guilty look, Natasha didn't know what was.

"Clint was singing," Tony said bluntly, massaging his temples. "My ears are in pain. Terrible, terrible pain..."

Steve shot the archer an incredulous look. "Hate to break it to you, Clint," he began slowly. "But _Fury _isn't even that bad."

Now it was Bruce's turn to walk in. His eyes were a shade of deep green and he looked mad. "Alright, who's screaming?"

Natasha looked up at him. "Chill, Bruce," she said calmly. "Clint was 'singing'" she made air quotes around the word singing.

"Yeah," Tony agreed. "You could kill him though." He added hopefully, his eyes brightening up.

Bruce shook his head, the green in his eyes vanishing back to their usual colour remarkably fast. "I think Clint's just found the only way to kill The Other Guy." He said regretfully. "Otherwise I'd try."

Tony shrugged, though he looked slightly disappointed. "Whatever," he said with a low sigh. "I think his voice sounds like he's being strangled by a big, green, rage monster." Bruce rolled his eyes and tried to suppress a smile. How was it that Tony managed to make him feel so at ease about The Other Guy?

"Uh, no," Clint shook his head indignantly. "Here, I'm gonna perform for you all."

"I'd really rather you didn't," Tony said exasperatedly, glaring at the archer.

But Clint just ignored him. He started to sing AC/DC, something he was sure would totally tick the billionaire off. Clearly he was right, Tony immediately yelled at him because apparently he was 'disgracing the best rock band of all time'.

But, nothing the others could do would stop Clint apparently. His screeching filled the air and made everyone cringe. Tony slammed his head on the table, something Natasha decided was going to lose him precious brain cells, and Bruce looked like he was about to 'Hulk out'.

"Excuse me, sir," JARVIS' voice made Clint stop singing immediately and Tony looked up.

"Sup, J?" Tony asked in a bored tone. He ran a hand through his hair and an expectant look overtook his previously irritated expression.

"I would like you all to direct your immediate attention to the latest video I have of Mr Barton." The AI suggested. Immediately a projector lowered itself from the roof, pointing at a bare white wall. "His position is in Adelaide, South Australia. It was taken just last week by Miss Romanoff on their mission to Australia. They are in the Adelaide Jail."

Natasha let out a rare smile and Clint blushed bright red. "JARVIS, don't you dare."

"If you wish, sir," JARVIS said obediently and the projector began to slide back into the roof with a low metallic rumble.

"No, JARVIS!" Tony commanded sharply. "Ignore him! Show us the video."

"Of course, sir," JARVIS said clearly more faithful to his 'daddy' than anyone else. Clint scowled and folded his arms irritably, obviously not too happy about being 'broadcasted' to his teammates.

Tony was hoping some serious blackmail material to come out of this and he grinned as the beginnings of the clip played.

Clint was strutting around in the Adelaide jail, around the Death Row. But the weird thing was; he was hollering something at the top of his lungs...

_So bye, bye, Miss American Pie,_

_Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry_

_Them good ol' boys were drinking whisky and rye, singin..._

_This'll be the day that I die_

_This'll be the day that I die_

At the end of the verse, he struck a pose and walked back the other way, shaking his hips and singing the chorus all over again. The camera shook as Natasha fought back a laugh.

"You can't dance, Clint," she snorted and he raised his eyebrows before flicking back a non-existent lock of hair.

"It's called pizzazz, honey," he said snobbishly, placing his hands on his hips. He looked like he was trying hard not to laugh as he kept up the act.

Natasha laughed again, this time the camera fell from her hands and landed with a thud on the hard concrete floor, cutting of the video.

To be totally honest, he was actually really good.

Bruce and Steve turned around to face the archer, their eyebrows raised. Clearly they weren't expecting _that_. Thor looked mildly irritated, though it didn't seem as though he could choose out of being amused and annoyed because a slight smile was tugging at his lips.

Tony just frowned. "Clint, you'd better start running-" he began, narrowing his eyes. "-because I am going to kill you for annoying the shit out of me."

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**- Counting Stars **


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